“Is your roommate stupid? That guy’s a dick.”
I giggle and shake my head. Yeah, she does find herself in some stupid situations. “Trix has interesting taste.”
He sits straight up and turns his body toward me. “Trix is your roommate?”
“Yeah. You know her?”
“Fuck yeah, I know her. All the guys in the band know her.” He chuckles. “Well.”
I sit up and stare at him. We’re so close on the full-size bed, nothing separating us but that bottle of tequila. My eyes go tight and my chest seizes with jealousy. “You and Trix?”
All those mornings she’d go on and on about the one-night stand she’d had the night before. Telling me all the filthy details while I cringed and laughed. And one of those was Rex? Oh, fuck that!
“Me and . . . No.” He shakes his head. “I know Trix because she hangs out at some of our shows. I’ve never hooked up with her.”
Relief washes through my tense muscles and I lean in closer. “Never?”
His eyes dance around my face. “Never.”
Without thinking, I close the tiny space between us. My lips brush against his once, the metal from his lip ring is warmer than I imagined it’d be. I drag my lower lip against it—
“No.” He shoves me back by my shoulders. “Don’t fucking do that.” He’s off the bed, his hands fisting his shirt at his stomach.
I cover my mouth. Oh shit. I kissed him!
“You’re welcome to stay the night.” I can’t read his expression in the dark, but his body looks . . . pained.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t say it enough, loud enough, with enough meaning for him to understand. “Please, I don’t know what came over me. I just—”
“Lock the door on your way out.”
The last thing I see is Rex’s retreating back before I hear the front door slam.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. What did I do? The relief I felt that he hadn’t hooked up with Trix, his blue eyes locked on mine, the clean scent of his skin mixed with tequila on his breath, and the way we were so close—I kissed him. Oh no, this is bad. I finally get him alone and opening up to me. I fucked it all up.
He’ll never speak to me again.
Six
Pain is seductive
Pleasure as well
I’m the sickness between them
In my own personal hell.
--Ataxia
Rex
Fuck! What the fuck was that? I didn’t see it coming. I can’t believe she tried to kiss me. Try? Shit, she did kiss me!
It was seconds, not even seconds, and my dick roared to life. The slight touch of those full cherry lips, the smell of the sun and sweetness coming from her skin, and I was gone. All the blood in my body pooled instantly in two places, one painfully obvious behind my zipper, and the other in my stomach. I hit the door, practically choking on the rising tequila.
I take a deep breath and turn up the volume on my car stereo. Avenged Sevenfold’s “Lost it All” blares through the speakers, intent on beating the memory out of my head. I keep seeing the pain of rejection in her eyes and the look of sheer panic on her face when I left. But no amount of music can erase the lingering smell of her in my truck or the buzz on my lips left from her soft kiss.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Mac?” I ask and get no answer.
I’m good at seeing the signs of a woman who wants to hook up. I’ve even enjoyed a little harmless flirting. I have to in order to protect myself. What kind of assumptions would people make if I didn’t have a girl under my arm from time to time? How many rumors would start if I was never seen out with a woman? So I’ve made exceptions for the sake of appearance. And I always know when a girl is looking for more, when the flirting isn’t enough and she’s ready to take payment on the promises.
Mac didn’t put out any of the vibes: no come-fuck-me eyes, flirty giggles, shit chicks do with their bodies turning from human to feline, none of that.
I scrub my hand through my hair and keep my focus on the road ahead of me. What little buzz I had evaporated by the adrenaline rush of one kiss. The kiss came out of nowhere, but could’ve definitely led somewhere. Fast.
My pants are still uncomfortably tight between my legs. I need some relief soon, or I’ll turn my truck around and get Mac on her knees and fuck up everything more than I already have. I groan at the visual of her looking up at me, her lips wet and pliable.
Holy hell.
It’s almost five in the morning. Tattoo and piercing shops are closed, but the training center is open. I take the freeway exit and head back in the opposite direction. Hopefully no one will be there yet and I can get a few undisturbed hours with the heavy bag and leave whatever’s left beating feet on the treadmill.
If I can’t fight these urges out of my sick body, then I’ll exhaust myself so that I can sleep through them.